Tuesday, October 20, 2015

I love most things vampire. I write about them, have shelves
full of movies featuring them, and even more shelves filled with books, both
fiction and historical studies, of the vampire phenomenon. I even have a bunch
of favorite songs about them.

Amidst all of these myriad materials, my love of vampires
has a lot of restrictions and must-haves/must-not-haves—because there is a lot
about vampires being written and filmed that misses their core Brutality. Their
addiction to Blood is as fierce and all-pervasive as a heroin junky’s—and, when
it is well done, the addiction drives them, in the end, to always show their
fangs, no matter how much their charm has fooled us. The best vampires are not
to be trusted, and they know it. They
tell us so, over and over. They are
prone to excuses and rationalizations. They are inclined toward boredom,
infighting, and existential crisis.

So, when a new book about vampires arrives, I always hold my
breath for the first few pages and see just what kind of blood-lusters these new
ones will be.

K. P. Ambroziak’s vampires meet my criteria for what makes
the best vampires. At times reminiscent of the vampires and their
historical–cultural context that populate the thousands of pages of fiction by
Anne Rice, at other times like Stoker’s Dracula (employing the device of the
journal, and the syntax of one who has existed for hundreds of years), and
still others like the Hammer vampires in their lust and prolonged brutality, The Journal of Vincent du Maurier is in
many ways a classic vampire novel.

Then again, it’s not. Ambroziak employs the recently popular
device of pulling in a post-apocalyptic zombie adversary, but not named as
such. In this case, they are called the Bloodless, the way they are called
Walkers in The Walking Dead. So yes,
if you like vampires, zombies, and The
Walking Dead, you are going to love this book. It uses all of these well,
and is well-written to keep it all flowing at an engaging pace and in the
proper tone for the genre.

But there is more. What I liked best about The Journal of Vincent du Maurier is
that it is written with lots of historical context (and some terrific reveals
about who is who that I wouldn’t dare reveal) and cultural detail, including
bursts of dialogue in several foreign languages (always translated in ways that
speak to Ambroziak’s craft as a writer—Cormac McCarthy could learn a few things
from this). There is also plenty of smart science. The author has done abundant
research, and it shows.

The book opens with a Translator’s Note, which situates the
story in time (268 of Post Common Era), and contains the following, which the
reader should keep in mind as the book ends: “With the exception of its last
few missing pages, the following chronicle…” (p. 3).

The Journal of Vincent
du Maurier is a perfect storm of the writer’s talent, new use and blending
of old tropes, research, and the mechanism of a found journal. A rarity for
self-published books, there were very few grammatical errors, which was
appreciated. Overall, the paper selection, typeface, binding, and cover design
are of a high quality that independent publishing needs more of in order to be
judged more on the merit of the work and less on the often questionable quality
of the delivery.

It is hard to tell, with the “missing pages” at the end, if
this is the first in a series. I hope that it is, because Vincent du Maurier
(whose real identity I think you’ll enjoy discovering) is a vampire I’d like to
hear more from.